おまけ劇場 (Bonus Theater): The Rebels
by frankannestein
Summary: One-shot collection of events that can't be told from Felline's POV. Story summaries inside.
1. Black and White

**ThunderCats in its entirety © Warner Bros.**

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**Summary: **"Trials of Lion-O," extra scene. Takes place between chapters seven and eight of "The Rebels."

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_No, Lion-O. I'm afraid you are quite dead._

_. . ._

_Not yet, Lion-O. The Spirit Stone has deemed you worthy of another chance to walk among the living._

_. . ._

_It's not that simple, Lion-O. While your first life was given to you, your second life must be earned._

_. . ._

_You must complete a series of trials._

_. . ._

_Your only other choice is death. Pass through this door and you will begin a series of trials, designed to test whether you can overcome your greatest weaknesses, to see if yours is a life worth saving. Good luck._

..::~*~::..

Cautiously, I stepped through the portal of red-violet light, letting it crackle shut behind me. It had been pure luck that I'd had the Gauntlet and Spirit Stone with me when I died. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be facing these strange, impossible trials. Not for the first time, I wondered who – or what – could take the forms of my friends so perfectly. First Kit and Kat, who had cheered for me when I passed their trial. Cheetara, who had boasted that she'd won even though I'd gotten the key first. Panthro, who had punched like the ThunderTank. They wore my friends' faces, spoke with their voices, acted just like them.

_Two left_, I thought as I squinted through the darkness. Wherever the door had led me this time, I couldn't see a thing. Two more trials. Or maybe three, if one of the proctors turned out to be Snarf.

A chuckle escaped me. Good old Snarf. My faithful nursemaid and, at one point in my life, my only friend. They wouldn't do that. Would they?

I waited for something to happen, my mind a buzz. I felt like a truant cub having lessons literally pounded into me. _Keep my eyes open. Look for the easy way. My greatest strength is as a leader_. As far as I knew, my body was still lying at the bottom of the river, pinned beneath a ton of rock, yet I could feel new bruises blooming all over. I could smell Kat, touch Cheetara and Panthro, and my feet stopped at the floor rather than sinking into it. These spirits, or whatever they were, weren't making things easy. How could I possibly tell what was real and what wasn't? At least I hadn't been dumped headfirst out of the sky and into a briar patch again.

So, who would it be this time? My brother Tygra, or –

Felline.

I could see her in spite of the darkness, her fur so white it reflected the ambient light. By it, I could discern that she was sitting on some kind of metal shelf, and she briefly pressed a panel at her thigh. When she did, several lights popped into existence. They blinded me at first, but I blinked a few times and the glare subsided; it was coming from a row of computer monitors.

I stared at them, my gut sinking. Like the slums of Thundera, the labyrinthine briar, and my father's throne room, I knew this place.

We were in the cell blocks of Mumm-Ra's ship, the _Black Pyramid_.

"All right," I said by way of greeting. "Let me have it. What do I have to do this time?"

She didn't answer. More lights bloomed into cold, white brilliance, illuminating the entire block. The cells rose on tiered levels, groups of animals milling or swimming behind the shimmering, transparent force fields that kept them prisoner. Just like in Leo's memory, all the different, enslaved species from across the galaxies were present. Most were shouting, pressing up against the force fields, wailing when the electrified barriers shocked them hard enough to put out an elephant. It was hard to pick out what they were saying over all the barks, howls, growls, trumpeting, and squawks.

Felline shifted her eyes to the tableau, unspeaking.

"I have to set them free? This is going to be easy," I said, too loudly to cover up her silence. I confidently approached the control panel.

I'd done it once before, after all, while reliving my ancestor's memories. Calling on Leo's knowledge of the ship's systems, I began entering the lock release systems. I started with the explosive collars. Once those shut down, the overhead lights turned a warning red, a klaxon wound up and began blaring, and a countdown took over most of my monitor screen.

According to the rapidly decreasing numbers, I had thirty seconds to free them all before the collars reactivated and detonated.

"Maybe not so easy," I muttered.

I pushed one of the urgently blinking lights, watching it go from red to green. However, the force field blocking the dogs and jackalmen didn't power down. That was when I noticed that only half of the lock releases were on this station – the other half were on the next panel over. I stretched for it and managed to press a second release with the tip of a claw.

They poured out of their cells in an avalanche of black, brown, red, and white, their olive green jumpsuits straining over muscled bodies. In an instant, the noise in the block spiked, because the dogs and monkeys began brawling.

Wait, why were they fighting? They were supposed to run to the weapons blocks and engine room as planned. Instead, they were tearing each other apart.

"Stop!" I yelled, but my voice flattened like a felled tree, achieving no distance at all. "_Hey_!"

Confusion made me hesitate, but not for long. I didn't have time to falter now; the countdown had not paused. Maybe if I released the rest, the crush of animals would push the monkeys toward the exits. I chose the elephants next, straining to reach the lock for the vulture-men and birds.

Complete chaos. The elephants, towering over their neighbors, stampeded out of their cell with no care for who might be under their heavy feet. Although the birds immediately took flight to safety, my one success didn't erase the crushed bodies left in the herd's wake. "Why two?" I demanded of the monitor. "Why can't I set them free one at a time?"

Panicking, I went for the tigersharks and lizards. The wave of water from the tigershark cell seemed to shock the dogs and jackalmen back to their senses, but incensed the monkeys, who turned on their water-dwelling neighbors. Furred and sandpaper-skinned bodies plummeted from the levels, screaming. The lizards swarmed out like oil skimming over the water, but when they reached the stairs, the birds and vulture-men went berserk, attacking them from above.

"No!" I cried, my fingers as stiff and cold as blocks of ice. It was all falling apart, and there was nothing I could do. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I couldn't control this mess.

Two seconds had transformed the cell block into a brutal battlefield, and as the timer ticked down . . . _3 . . . 2 . . . 1_ . . . the collars detonated and it descended just as quickly into graveyard stillness. Nothing moved or made a sound except for the slow drip of blood.

Mouth open, lungs frozen, I backed away from the monitors, my paws dropping lifeless to my sides. What had I done?

At that moment, the lights over the cell blocks went out, plunging them into darkness. The klaxon ceased. All I could hear was my own ragged breathing. The seconds ticked by, slower than my racing heart. I'd failed.

By Thundera, I'd _failed_.

Numb, I waited for my fate to arrive. My breathing calmed, the darkness pressing close.

Then it dawned on me.

I'd failed, but the trial hadn't ended. I was still here. There was no door, no key. The monitors were a blazing hum of white.

So, what was I missing? Felline was just sitting there, swinging her feet, watching me. There was something else I was supposed to do, but I had no idea what. I glared at her. In the previous trials, my friends had always had something to say. Advice, instructions, hints and clues. But she'd given me nothing. _Nothing_. And she'd let me kill all those animals.

I snarled, wanting to break something. I longed to grab her by her skinny arms and shake the answer out of her. I could do it, too. She was less than half my size, but I was positive that passing this trial did not involve bullying one of my friends.

Abrupt shame washed through me, hot and bilious, and I forced myself to back down. When had I turned into a bully? Because that was exactly what I had become in life.

_Think, Lion-O_, I scolded myself, fighting the despair that returned full force. What attribute did Felline represent? What new part of me could be labeled a weakness? I'd had to outsneak the sneaks, outrace the racer, overpower the powerful, and . . .

And then it came to me. Simply. I had to –

"Outthink the thinker," I breathed.

At last, I elicited a response from her. Her glacial eyes brightened and her ears pricked forward. In spite of her white face and overall smallness, she looked an awful lot like Panthera when she did that. Expectant. Admiring. And something else . . .

"It's you," I said idiotically. "You're the trial, not them." I gestured at the invisible cell blocks, the pathetic bodies of the animals I had doomed with my haste.

"It's not like I know everything," she said, neither confirming nor denying it. "If I did, I could have stopped you from taking us up the mountain. I would have known what it was that the Book was really saying."

"But you _hear_ everything," I exclaimed, speaking faster with the conviction that I had stumbled, at last, into the answer I so desperately needed to pass this trial. "You _see_ everything. You never _say_ anything. You're the only one of us who can put it all together, aren't you?"

I stopped talking as the meaning of what I was saying sank in. She stood apart from everyone. Even if it was by her own choice, it seemed sad to me. Why did she do it?

Suddenly, I wondered what I looked like to her, stubborn, loud, and charging around like I knew everything. Hadn't these trials taught me anything yet? They weren't about stealth, or speed, or strength. They were about using my head. And I still wasn't doing it. She had been following a fool this whole time.

She waited while I worked this out, giving away nothing. She was like the Book itself, sealed tight and full of knowledge that I didn't even know I didn't know.

"Say something," I said finally, nettled.

"The difference between you and me," she said softly, putting her tiny paw over my bigger one, "is that I know how to observe the consequences of my actions and adjust my behavior accordingly."

"Then help me," I snapped. "Leo didn't bring down the _Black Pyramid_ by himself. Panthera helped him." Well, it was more like the other way around, but I wasn't going to dwell on the details. "I can't do this alone, and I'm running out of time. Tell me what you know!"

"This is a simulation," she said without preamble, and I gave an exasperated sigh – she'd been withholding information simply because I hadn't asked for it! Was she like that in real life?

She moved my paw aside and tapped at the keyboard, fingers flying as she input a complex string of functions that scrolled across the screens, white on black. The lights responded, going out and then coming back on full strength; the cells were occupied with living animals once more, all shouting, all desperate for freedom. "It's meant to test your ability to process consequences. Like all puzzles, there is a solution. To find it, you have to listen."

"Listen?" I repeated. "What, to them? I can't hear anything in all that!"

She snorted. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I can?"

Her words drew my eyes up, to her furred ears, larger and more sensitive than mine. I took a breath. Two. Three. "All right. What do you hear?"

One of her ears twitched, pointed toward the cells. "There is an argument between the dogs and the monkeys. A monkey was found dead with his throat bitten by a canine."

"So the dogs and monkeys can't be released at the same time."

She shrugged. Then she went on with, "The birds are starving. They will eat lizards if given the chance. The monkeys can't swim. The elephants aren't allowed to meditate."

The rules seemed simple enough. "I have to release two groups at once. Birds and lizards can't go together, but birds and dogs can," I said slowly. My brows pinched. It was hard to visualize this. "Monkeys and birds, not monkeys and tigersharks. But it sounds like elephants can't go with anyone because they're going to stampede, anyway . . . ." I trailed off with a snarl. Turning sharply on my heel, I paced six steps to the edge of the catwalk, and then six steps back. _Think_! She'd figured it out already, but I knew better than to ask for the solution.

I kept pacing. Birds – dogs – elephants – lizards – monkeys – tigersharks – over and over again, different combinations – elephants – birds – _ah_!

"All right," I said at last. "I think I've got it. Wish me luck?"

I said the last part half-jokingly, but she didn't do it. Of course not.

I put my fingers on the keys, but I didn't immediately begin the simulation. I could clearly see what I'd done wrong the first time. I'd assumed I knew what the trial was at the start, without seeking information. I'd taken it for granted that these animals were united as they had been in Leo's memory. I'd dismissed Felline as a mere observer.

None of them had been simple observers. These trials, like life, weren't black and white.

"There are two control panels," I pointed out. I could picture Panthera, tall, dark, and fierce, standing here in her skintight spacesuit, bent over the keyboard with Leo at her side. "Will you help me release the locks?"

Felline's tail flicked. "I will help in any way I can. All you have to do is ask."

I studied her face. "You really mean that, don't you?" I asked quietly.

She smiled and took up her station at the second monitor. She was pretty, I realized, shocked that I'd never noticed before. Too often, she was either hiding in the background or yelling in my face. Not very flattering in either case. She was short, delicate, and feminine, the black stripes on her otherwise white face drawing attention to her small mouth and large, round eyes. Her hair, bound elegantly to the back of her head in the style of Thunderian nobles, flowed down her back when loose, long enough to prove a hindrance in a fight. A cat like her didn't belong on the battlefield, but she'd been there, right at my side, giving me everything she had, almost from the start. I hadn't seen this side of her, serene as falling snow, more than a few times. I wished that I possessed some of her calm. I wished that I had treated her better in the beginning.

"I'm sorry," I said, knowing it wasn't enough, that this wasn't really Felline, but I had to say something.

"I know," she said. I couldn't help but wonder if the real Felline would say the same thing. "Time is running out. Are you ready?"

I nodded, and then, preparing myself for the deafening klaxon, disabled the collars. "On my mark, release the birds."

..::~*~::..

Felline handed me the key, the same as all the others, long and brass, with a tiny Eye of Thundera in its bow and a single bit at the other end. "Life is never going to give you second chances like I can. Remember to use your resources. Especially those found in your friends. You're not going to know how to get out of every situation beforehand. That's impossible. Ask questions. Hear what we have to say. Listen to comprehend, not to reply. No king has ever stood alone."

"I understand," I said. For once, I didn't resent someone giving me advice. The door of light appeared like a rip in the air, its keyhole shining white. She stood across from me, smiling in that gentle way she had. I didn't move to insert the key; it felt like I was forgetting to do something. Cheetara had kissed my cheek. Was Felline about to do the same thing? I didn't know how I felt about that and cleared my throat. "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome, Your Majesty," she said. Her tail flicked. Amusement. No. She wasn't going to kiss me. And she might very well know what I had been thinking.

For some reason, that made me feel even more awkward. I couldn't look her in the eye anymore and instead watched her tail. The black tip twitched up in a beckoning way that would keep her cubs close if she had any; it was a primal instinct that I, though motherless, recognized, even though nobility and royalty in our society no longer kept their tails if born with one.

She giggled. "Is there something else you'd like to ask?"

I snapped to attention. Of course. Of course there was. What better time to put this lesson to use? "How many more trials are there?"

Her smile faded. "There is only one, and it's the hardest of them all. You'd better go now. Good luck, Lion-O."

"Yeah," I said uneasily. _Now_ she was wishing me luck? What was I going to have to do in the final trial? It was a sure bet I'd be facing my brother. The thought alone was enough to make me clench my teeth. Better hurry up and get this over with before my temper ran away with me.

I approached the door and inserted the key. Gave it a quarter turn. Stepped back as the light sucked it up and then split wide enough for me to pass through. "See you."

I may have imagined it, for the crackling of the door was loud in my ears, but I thought I heard her speak before the door closed. I turned around. The door was already gone and the last trial had begun, but I held on to her words as if she'd whispered them against my skin.

_I'll be waiting_.

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_**A/N:** ThunderCats 2011 Omake Gekijō Presents: "Black and White."_

_"Cat's Cradle" is told solely from my OC's point of view. While I was able to insert a trap for her to solve in "Journey to the Tower of Omens," there was no way she could know what Lion-O faced during his trials in the Spirit Realm. Likewise, since she is now a member of the ThunderCats, she would indeed have judged one of his trials._

_My solution was to write the scene as an extra and tell it from Lion-O's point of view. __This particular trial is twofold: First is the distraction, which is a simplified version of a river-crossing puzzle. I wanted it to be infinitely more complex, but unfortunately, I am absolutely hopeless at this type of problem-solving, so I decided to keep it easy. To admit that someone who looks like Felline could know more than he does, and then to request her help, was the true trial._

_It was difficult to explore Lion-O so personally, without viewing him through the lens of an OC. I hope you enjoyed it._

_Thank you for taking the time to check this out!_

_All my love,_

_Anne_


	2. Matchmakers

**ThunderCats in its entirety © Warner Bros.**

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**Summary: **WilyKit plays matchmaker. WilyKat does not approve. Takes place between chapters eight and nine of "The Rebels."

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Nothing grosses me out more than kissing.

Seriously, it's disgusting. From everything I've observed, kissing is like trying to eat someone else's face, complete with smacky noises, like no one taught them to chew with their mouths closed. Can't it be quieter, at least? And Cheetara and Tygra are _always_ doing it. No matter where I want to walk, there they are, blocking the way. Like right now.

I pull up short. Tygra promised he'd flay me alive if I spy on them one more time. As if anyone would want to! If it was possible to pop out my eyeballs and put them in my belt pouches I would. Is it my fault that watching them swap spit triggers a perfectly natural desire in me to puke?

I hesitate, weighing my options. The quickest way to the food is through Cheetara and Tygra. Otherwise, I have to go the long way, right past Mother Hen Felline. Which I don't want to do, because it's nowhere near lunchtime and she won't let me touch the supplies. _Rationing_, she says. I cross my arms. Who put her in charge, anyway? Not Lion-O; he's always as hungry as I am. But, of course, that old grouch Panthro will take her side. He always does.

Come to think of it, I can't go that way, either. Panthro's out for my skin too because of that nonsense with the incontinent froog me and my sister tried to nurse back to health. In hindsight, choosing his bunk to house the messy little croaker probably wasn't the wisest move, but we figured his blankets smelled the worst anyway. . . .

I decide I can go this way, revulsion making my eyes cross as Tygra moves on to licking Cheetara's jaw. Does that taste good, or something? Tentatively, I sneak a lick of my wrist, but it just tastes like it always does. Grownups are weird. They're so absorbed in each other they'll never notice if I climb up the side of the ThunderTank – but Tygra's growling possessively into Cheetara's throat, and I have to swallow what's sure to be a loud and damning retch. I can't let them hear me. I can already feel the sting of a whip on my backside.

Aw, forget it. It's not like I'm hungry, anyway.

I turn on my heel, paws clasped behind my head. I stroll away in case they come up for air. I don't care. I'm . . . bored. Yeah, that's it. There's nothing to do, so I –

My stomach gives a huge rumble.

"Uhn," I whimper, staggering sideways. Strength . . . fading. . . . Sight . . . dimming. . . .

"Hey, Kat," Kit says, cropping up next to me like a goofer out of its hole.

"Sis?" I ask weakly, squinting at her. "Is that you? I think . . . this is it for me." I slump to the ground, eyes closed. I'm not breathing.

She squats next to me. Pokes me in the head as if to test my deadness level. "Too bad. I brought food."

"Oh!" I immediately sit up, grinning, and flick my tail. "Why didn't you say so?"

"Here." She tosses me a bone. There's even still meat on it.

I ravenously sink my teeth into it. Kit's face is greasy; I suspect she helped herself to more than her fair share, but since she did risk Felline's scolding to bring me some and doesn't know about my candyfruit stash, I can let it slide this once.

Neither of us says it. We don't have to. Together, we scamper up the nearest tree with our booty. It's one of the white maples that make up the forest at the base of the snowy mountain range to the north. Summer is over, and it's getting colder. We settle on a branch, concealed behind clumps of large, autumn-red leaves.

I sit back, gnawing on a particularly juicy bit, while Kit sucks on hers, perched at the edge of the branch. She's watching Panthro and Felline sort through their endless boxes of machine parts and tools, arguing about fixing something or other.

Kit pulls the bone out of her mouth with a slurp. She licks her fingers and her lips, and then speaks.

"I think Panthro likes Felline."

"Huh?" I cast an indifferent glance at the ground. Panthro paws through a box while Felline tries to reach a panel above her head, but she's too short. "Of course he does. She's the only one he lets touch his precious Tank, isn't she?"

"That's not what I meant," Kit says, turning to me with a sly grin. Her tail waves back and forth the way it always does when she's feeling playful. "I mean _likes_ her likes her."

I gape at her. "Are you crazy? He's, like, fifty years old! Isn't that, you know, too old for k – ki – that kind of . . . stuff?" I can't say it because I can feel the bile rising at the thought.

"You can be such a toad," Kit sniffs, shooting me a condemning stare through narrowed eyes. As if she's so much more mature than I am, when she's the one who still needs me to walk with her so she can do her business at night. "Age doesn't matter in love!"

"Yeah, but . . ." Queasy, I look down again. Panthro picks Felline off her feet and sets her on his shoulder. She laughs at him and sets to work, her goggle lenses as red as the maple leaves, her tail swishing across his broad back. His expression is as grumpy as ever. Now, if Tygra had Cheetara sitting on his shoulder, he'd be all googly-eyed and rubbing his cheek into her leg. Maybe drooling. "You're imagining things, Sis."

"Oh, am I?" she croons, and I know I'm in for it.

I try to run, but she pounces, sinking her claws into my leggings and pulling my feet out from under me. I nearly drop my bone, and when I grab at it, she takes the opportunity to sit on me, pinning me to the branch.

..::~*~::..

The problem was that he was surround by kids.

Panthro sighed. He crouched next to the toolbox and plunged his paws in, digging around for the samoflange and a pair of gorzas. It wasn't like he could find them by feel anymore. If he wasn't careful, he could wind up breaking something irreplaceable.

But his mind wasn't on the samoflange. It was on the ThunderCats. Yup. All of 'em. Snot-nosed kids. Not one had a clue. Here they were, blindly following incomprehensible directions to the next Power Stone, Mumm-Ra on their collective tail, and that fool of a prince and cleric weren't applying themselves to the solution. He sighed again, but it came out closer to a growl. Lion-O was just as bad. He'd been twisted into knots over the whole Cheetara thing for a while, which messed with his decision-making capabilities. This was why no one in their right minds put toms at his age in charge of a damn thing. And Felline! What an unpleasant surprise to catch her mooning over Lion-O. He'd thought her more level-headed than that. Of course, they'd all thought Lion-O was _dead_ at the time . . .

A tap on his shoulder made him look up. "Red box. Next to the purrank and toska in the removable tray. I haven't gotten around to sorting that one yet," Felline said, gesturing at his box.

"Thanks," he muttered, unable to erase his scowl. He'd never been great at organization, and felt bad every time he saw her working late into the night, carefully finding new homes for all of their spare parts and tools so she wouldn't have to do it on the fly. He opened the correct box. "How did you know what I wanted?"

She shrugged, smiling. "Educated guess."

There was a smudge of grease across her forehead, covering up one of her eyebrows. Combined with her big, round, blue eyes, it gave her a look of great surprise, but she fitted a new drill bit, pulled down her goggles, and went back to work with a surety that surprised _him_. She was so tiny, but she never let that stop her. She braced her feet, black-clad legs taut, and with quick pulls of the trigger, removed all the screws, letting them drop into her palm before tossing them aside with impressive accuracy. One ear was tilted to catch the sound of the screws hitting the tin cup on the ground, the other forward, listening for any problems. Her small face was serious, and a lock of white hair had come loose, waving down her back.

Maybe she did have a thing for the kid, but she wasn't letting _that_ stop her, either. At last, here was someone he could properly rely on.

Panthro stood up, samoflange in paw. Even if he did something like tuck her hair back in place, which she might very well not like, he wouldn't know if it was as soft as it looked, not with these blasted arms. He turned away. Her independence reminded him a lot of himself at her age. She'd told him about her family. It had sounded like her father had worked hard to bring his daughters to Thundera, but then she'd lost him, and her sister, too. He remembered what she'd been like in the beginning: skittish, reluctant to get her paws dirty. Helpless. Boy, had that rubbed his fur wrong. A delicate girl like Felline should never have seen the evil that was war.

His scowl deepened. Cripes. When had he become such a softie? He was giving himself a bellyache.

..::~*~::..

"Hold it," I interrupt, shifting so that my chin isn't digging into tree bark. "You don't know that. How could you possibly know what Panthro is thinking? We can't even hear them talking from up here."

"It's an _educated guess_," Kit says defensively above me.

I roll my eyes. "Sure, Sis."

..::~*~::..

He worked for a few minutes in silence. Then the prolonged squeal of claws on metal made him drop the samoflange. It growled when it hit the ground and he surged to his feet. "What in blazes are you doing?" he exploded.

"Sorry," Felline gasped. She was sitting in a cloud of dirt, wincing as she put a paw to her backside. "I couldn't reach."

She pointed to a secondary panel, ten feet up.

Panthro's eyebrow twitched. Without a word, he scooped her off the ground and settled her on his shoulder as if she was one of his nieces.

She burst out laughing, weightless as a doll. It was almost as if she wasn't even there. "Wow, I've never been this tall! What's the weather like down there?"

"Will you just get to work?" he rumbled, scowling. He curled one metal paw protectively around her shins and squeezed his eyes shut, determinedly not asking himself why he hadn't touched her before now. With paws that couldn't break her so easily.

"Okay, okay. Killjoy." She was still laughing.

Ah, _cripes_. With something like dismay, he tried to ignore the way her laughter burned him up inside. She was stronger than any of them had given her credit for, and never had she shown fear under his mismatched glare. His scars didn't bother her. She'd built new arms for him. And she laughed as she balanced on his shoulder, caught somewhere between kitten and adult.

Surrounded by kids. Saddled with a pair of lovebirds.

"I got it, thanks," Felline said. "You can let me down now."

With traveling companions like that, he supposed it shouldn't surprise him that he'd started acting like an awkward teenager around her.

He lifted her down carefully, handling her as if she was made of glass. On her feet, she barely reached his elbow.

By Thundera, he'd never expected to fall in love again.

..::~*~::..

"Love? _Panthro_?" I don't want to think of the general like that. He's a man's man. Like me. I start gagging, and Kit rewards me with a cuff over the ear. "Ow!"

"Quiet!" she orders.

..::~*~::..

She must have seen something in his face. Puzzled, she frowned up at him. "Is something wrong?"

He couldn't seem to unclench his jaw to answer her. No. Yes. Everything was wrong. She was eighteen years old, for crying out loud. And he was . . . well. Too old for her.

_She likes the kid_, he reminded himself. Why on Third Earth would she choose an old cat like him?

..::~*~::..

"Kit . . ." I say warningly, already knowing where this is headed. We can't actually see Felline anymore. Only the back of Panthro's topknot.

..::~*~::..

They were so good at silence, Felline and Panthro. He didn't have a clue what to say to her.

Concerned, she put a paw against his stomach, closing the distance between them and setting off a chain of internal shocks that made his heart pound dully.

..::~*~::..

"_Kit_."

Lost in her fantasy, she's not listening to me, paws clasped at her cheek, smiling dreamily. I swear I can see sparkles in her eyes.

..::~*~::..

Tentatively, he hooked the loose strand of hair from behind her neck, letting the shining white strands run over his claw.

"There's somethin' I need to tell you, but I don't know how," he said abruptly, voice gruffer than usual.

Something – a shadow, a memory, grief and pleasure – passed across her eyes. She tilted her head, pressing the side of her face into his palm. "Then maybe you should show me instead," she said quietly.

He couldn't believe his ears. She must know what had happened. Had he been wrong about the kid?

Attraction shimmered between them like summer lightning, keeping their gaze connected. Still, he couldn't think of anything to say.

So he didn't say anything. He bent down and kissed her.

..::~*~::..

"That's _it_!" I cry. I sit up so fast I dislodge my sister. We glare at each other along the branch. Kissing again! _No kissing_!

Then something down below catches my eye and I relax, smirking. "Nice try, Sis, but that's not gonna happen," I say.

"Why not?" she demands. She pouts at me. I know I've hurt her feelings, but I really can't stand all this lovey dovey girly junk. I'm going to have nightmares about Panthro trying to kiss everything from the Tank to lizards thanks to her.

"Because I think Lion-O is the one who likes Felline," I say smugly.

"What? He does not," Kit gasps.

I point.

She turns so fast I think she cricks her neck. She massages it angrily, watching as Lion-O appears from inside the ThunderTank and walks up to the others, a paw shyly seeking the back of his red head. Panthro's scowl deepens, but Felline greets the king cheerfully. They stand awfully close together.

"Lion-O loves Cheetara, everybody knows that," Kit scoffs.

Nonchalant, I start licking my claws clean. I'm not so sure about that anymore.

"Anyway, he doesn't like Felline. Panthro does," Kit insists.

The general shoulders in between them, foisting a box of tools upon a startled Lion-O before storming off. Lion-O looks sheepish, but Felline's laughing again. I hadn't known she could laugh so much. She pats his arm and he brightens. When she ducks inside the Tank with a box of her own, he follows her, not watching where he's going because he's too busy watching her.

"You don't want to admit that Lion-O likes her because _you_ like Lion-O," I say accusingly.

Kit's entire body goes rigid, tail stiff as a bottlebrush. A blush colors her face so fast it's as if someone threw red paint at her.

"Ha!" I burst out, holding my middle as the laughter seizes me. "I knew it!"

"N-no I don't!" she protests, but the damage is done. I've got her now.

"WilyKit lo-oves Lion-O," I sing. I scurry headfirst down the tree, singing at the top of my lungs, with my sister in hot pursuit like we're a pair of skirlls. Once on the ground, I break into a four-legged gallop. We're exactly the same height – no matter how fast Kit goes, she can't catch me. "WilyKit lo-oves Lion-O!"

This time, unfortunately, I'm the one not watching where I'm going. I run smack into Cheetara. If she hadn't been glued to Tygra by the lips, I would have knocked her down.

"Hey!" she cries breathlessly.

"WilyKat!" Tygra shouts, furious, holding her up. If he hadn't been, I'm sure his big paws would have latched around my neck.

"Yipe!" I turn tail to escape and end up in my sister's clutches.

We collide and go down, yelling.

"WilyKit lo-oves Lion-O!"

"I do not!"

"_WilyKit lo-oves Lion-O_!"

"Take! It! Back!" she snarls, grabbing fistfuls of my mane.

"Never!" I snarl right back. I stretch her tail tight between my paws and prepare to bite.

"_Take it back_!"

"NO!"

"Stuff it, both of you!" Panthro roars. His paws descend on us, nab us by the scruff, and hoist us into the air. He holds us at arm's length while we scratch and hiss at each other.

All the noise brings Lion-O and Felline. They join Cheetara and Tygra, looking both bewildered and amused.

"What is going on?" Felline asks after Kit and I tire ourselves out and hang, panting, in Panthro's grip.

He looks at her, looks down at us, and then heaves an irritated sigh.

"I don't even wanna know," he rumbles.

* * *

_**A/N**: ThunderCats 2011 Omake Gekijō Presents: "Matchmakers."_

_It all started with WAR-Operative suggesting a new fic exchange. She said: [We should do a Valentine's Day one and pair characters up with opposite pairing - like Panthro and Felline]._

_I said, I'm in._

_While writing Cat's Cradle, I intended to create a character for Lion-O to fall in love with. But somehow, I seem to have created someone that Panthro would fall in love with instead. I know it in the strange way all authors know the characters they write about. When no one was looking, the wrong character lost his heart to my OC. I swear that I never intended that to happen (as I recall, having more than one canon character fall for the OC is the height of Mary Sue no-nos), nor did I make any plans to introduce such a thing into the main series. However, the idea would not leave me alone, and WAR handed me the perfect avenue to make my escape. Real life made me overshoot Valentine's Day a bit, but I don't care._

_The revelations didn't stop there. While chatting with my good friend Darwin, she unintentionally brought it to my attention that I seem to have a thing for pairing characters with humongous age gaps, and when I realized she was right, I couldn't stop laughing because in real life, I'm not like that at all! Panthro and Felline are perhaps my biggest age leap ever. Needless to say, Darwin was the inspiration for WilyKat's disapproval._

_She also came up with the nonsense tools for me. Because WilyKit has no idea what she's talking about._

_So, all of you Fellanthro fans (not the least of which is Mooncloudpanther, since she's the one who coined the term), this story is for you._

_Reviewer thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **lionessa**, **Jaegermeister97**, and **Of Sound Mind**. Wow, you guys! I didn't expect such a warm and enthusiastic response. Thank you so, so much!_

_Love, Anne_


	3. Promise Me, part one

**ThunderCats in its entirety © Warner Bros.**

**Dissonance/Snowfall ****© WAR-Operative**

* * *

**Summary: **Lion-O struggles to find a way to convince Felline not to leave Thundera, part one. Sequel to WAR-Operative's "Dissonance/Snowfall."

* * *

During afternoon assembly, Father drops an egg on me.

Not literally. It's what he says. Which is: "Felline of the Snow Leopard clan has rescinded her Council application, so we have decided to accept the application of Geof of the Ocelot clan in her place. Jaga, please dictate –"

"But – what?" I splutter, as stunned as if Father really did throw an egg in my face. "Felline _rescinded_? Why on Third Earth would she do that?"

Father lowers the parchment from which he was reading, revealing a familiar look of irritation. I am the only one who interrupts him. Not that I'm supposed to. Nobody should be surprised, but nearly everyone in the council chamber stares at me. I swallow audibly. "Sorry."

For once, Father permits my interruption and answers me. Maybe he's as bored by these daily proceedings as I am, because his tone doesn't change from what I think of as Assembly Drone. "Felline did not provide an explanation for her retraction," he says with one tired eye on the parchment, "only that she must regretfully decline the position. This leaves us in quite a scramble, but she's well within the timeframe."

"Since it's your job to handle that sort of paperwork, it boggles the mind that you didn't already know," my brother snidely puts in from his seat on Father's left, not even trying to hide his smirk.

"Shut up, Tygra," I mutter under my breath, leaning back so that our father's bulk hides me from him. He's right. And Felline knows it. Just like she knows I hate paperwork and often shirk my duties, leaving Jaga to clean up after me, which means that I wouldn't learn this piece of unwelcome news until it's too late to do anything about it, damn her!

I slouch in my seat, unable to focus as Father moves on to some drivel about a fire in granary five. If Snarf were allowed in assembly, I would send him to get the truth from Felline, but he's asleep in my bed and I can't exactly summon him here through sheer will. I need to leave. Right now. I have to ask her what in blazes she thinks she –

Jaga leans down next to me, and under cover of the conflicting reports about how the fire started, serenely says, "Lady Felline understands her responsibilities, Lion-O. That quality is what made her such an excellent Council candidate. Perhaps it is time you learn from her example."

"Jaga, you knew about this," I hiss while the guards begin shouting at each other. Already, General Panthro is intervening. I don't have much time. "How could you keep it a secret?"

Jaga's whitened eyebrows rise to meet his helm. We stare at each other until my eyes slip sideways.

One of the wonderful things about my family is that even though I don't have a mother, I sort of ended up with two fathers. One is a king who wields the Sword of Omens. The other is a sorcerer and the High Cleric. Some days, I can't decide which one is scarier.

Jaga doesn't have to say anything. I know I've messed up. Again. Frustrated, I cross my arms and try to look like I've been paying attention as my father barks out an order that shuts everyone up as if they've been punched. I'm going to have to wait it out. I do, but I'm so furious with Felline that I don't speak again. Each time Father glances curiously at me, unaccustomed to my silence, his frown deepens.

Yeah, well, I'm not about to help him along. Father never exactly did understand girl problems. Like the fiasco that was me and Pumyra. He didn't approve of her, anyway, and when things went sour, he essentially said "I told you so" as if she didn't try to rip my heart out of my chest and eat it. Jaga says it's because he was lucky enough to have met Leona, whatever that's supposed to mean.

The moment the gong rings I am out of my seat and out the door, pretending I can't hear Father call my name. It was a half-hearted shout and not a roar, which means Jaga intercepted him and I can safely ignore it. I dash to my room, snatch up a cloak from under Snarf, sending him tumbling across the blankets, and swing it over my shoulders as I hurtle for the stairs that will take me down to the first district. A glance up at the wintry sky shows a vague white glow where the sun should be; this time of day, I can find Felline in Lady Perrie's School for Little Lords and Ladies. Since this autumn's semester began, she and her sister have been helping their mother as assistant teachers.

I enter their house without knocking and push open the door to the front parlor to find Lepra and Felline packing up for the day. The room vibrates in the weak sunlight that turns the curtained windows gray, unmistakably just emptied of twenty energetic, noisy cubs who are, in my opinion, hellcats rather than little lords or ladies. But then, we all are at that age. Lepra, wielding a broom between desks, straightening chairs as she goes, sees me first.

"Hello, Your Highness," she greets me warmly. In spite of knowing me for the past nine years, she refuses to use my name. Her eyes, always half-lidded in a way that my idiot brother has mooned over more than once, take in my flushed face and the hood, lying on my shoulders as if blown off because I ran all the way there. Which I did. "Trying to ditch your bodyguards, I take it. What did you do this time?"

"What? No, I –" I glance back through the hallway into the street, and catch sight of a familiar cloaked figure standing under a leafless tree like a pale raven. There will be two more. There always are. No one can outrace a cleric. I shut the door firmly on the masked figure and advance into the elegant parlor turned schoolroom. "I wanted to talk to Felline."

I look over at her as I say it, but she has her back to me while she busily refills and caps the inkwells.

Something passes over Lepra's face; she looked at Felline, too. She smiles at me again, but it's sadder. Whatever is going on, she knows about it, and she's unhappy . . . for me? That's strange. Lepra treats my brother and I with singular indifference, always has. Although she looks the part of a noble, she insists that the life of a royal doesn't interest her, which includes calling either of us friend. Felline, however . . . she's different. Ever since that day I interrupted a kidnapping and made a promise in the falling snow to a lonely little girl, she's been my closest friend. She knows what it's like to be last thought of and least wanted. So what in Thundera could make Lepra look at me like that?

"I'm going to go help Mother," she softly says, stowing the broom in a cupboard.

"Okay." Felline's reply is equally soft. She puts out a white paw, brushing her sister's arm when she walks by. Lepra pauses, and they talk in that wordless way all twins seem to have, even though Lepra is as tall as I am and Felline has to look up so far. The moment passes, and Lepra leaves, her gown rustling in the deafening silence. The door clicks behind her.

Feeling like I walked into a wall, I stare at the back of Felline's head with my mouth open. Her ears are pointed toward her task, deliberately not listening for me. Her attitude completely throws me off balance, and now that I'm here, I don't know where to start.

"What's going on?" I loudly ask. There. That's good. I remember that I was angry, and I grope for it, needing the support it can give me.

Her shoulders tighten, but then she sighs down at the empty ink bottle. "We're leaving Thundera."

"Leaving?" I repeat stupidly. I'm gonna need more than that. "Snow hasn't resigned his post." And I would know, because I practically grew up under the glacial stare of the stocky palace guard commander.

"No," she says, and she finally turns around. I'm taken aback by how her eyes are glazed with tears, looking more like blue ice than ever. "It's just Mother and Lep and me. We're going back home."

"Whiskers," I breathe, instantly, painfully aware of what an ass I am. They're leaving Thundera because Perrie is leaving Snow. After living under threat of it for years, Felline's family is breaking up. No wonder she's avoiding me. "I'm sorry."

"It seems so unreal," she whispers, dropping her eyes so that thick, black lashes form crescents on her white cheeks. "Even though she's so miserable, I never really thought she'd go. Father's taking it badly. He hasn't been home in a week."

I lurch forward as if I'm about to hug her, but I pull up short. That kind of thing isn't okay. Not anymore. To cover my sudden lunge, I scoot a cub-sized chair away from its desk and offer it to her. Wiping away a stray tear, she sits, curling her tail out of the way. I think it's funny that she fits.

I hook a foot around a second chair and sink into it backward. I don't fit. To keep from falling off, I cross my arms on the back and put my chin on them, waiting for her to stop sniffling.

"I didn't know how to tell you," she says after a few minutes, giving me a crooked grin.

"So you didn't tell me at all," I say, unforgiving. I am still angry, I realize. She blindsided me on purpose! What kind of friend does she think I am?

She sucks in a breath at my tone. "I'm sorry, Lion-O. But the decision is made."

"What decision?" I ask roughly, trying not to growl. If I lose my legendary lion's temper, she will lose hers, and we both know who will come out the biggest loser once she gets going. Still, I can't keep quiet. "Is this decision to throw away a lifelong dream right as it was in your grasp? To throw away all of your schooling, the tests, the apprenticeship, _proving_ to every cat out there that you belong on the Council?"

Agitated, her tail taps against her leg. I know what she's trying to tell me, but I brush it off. I've heard it too many times before, and frankly, I'm sick of it. Second class, my foot. She was _in_. It had taken her years, but she'd done it all on her own. My father, the _king_, had granted her the appointment himself!

"You're nineteen," I say, trying another tack. I can't help the face I make when I say it – I was positively galled when I found out she's older than I am by sixteen months. Tygra laughed himself sick when I told him. There she sits, hardly larger than when I met her at ten years old. "You're legally an adult. Your apprenticeship is over. You can apply for lodgings in the palace like the other councilmembers." I have to disguise a strange flutter in my throat when I say this, and my voice cracks embarrassingly on the next word. "Why are you leaving Thundera with your mother?"

"Because she's my _mother_," she says. "There's nothing for her back in Foret, not even our old house. I can't let her go alone."

"Alone?" I see an opening, and I pounce. "Lepra's going too, isn't she?"

"I'm not going to let my sister leave without me, either!" she says indignantly.

"Your sister doesn't have a prior commitment," I say through clenched teeth.

"That has nothing to do with it. I'm not going to _abandon_ her –"

"Funny, I was under the impression that I wasn't supposed to abandon _you_."

Color floods her face. Her fur is so white that there's no hiding it. I squirm on my too-small chair. She's so _cute_. Does she have any idea what she does to me?

I inch closer so that I can fold her paws into mine. _That's okay, right_? I think, reassuring myself. That's something a friend would do. "I can't let you go, Felline. Not when you have your whole future to stay for. I promised."

She doesn't immediately draw her paws away, and a distinctly _un_friendly feeling swells in my chest. "I remember. You were such a sweet little prince," she teases.

The feeling turns into the start of a purr, which I hastily convert into a laugh. "Yeah, what happened, right?"

"Right." At last, she smiles.

"It's not too late. I can tell my father that you've changed your mind. Just, don't go –" And now I'm pleading, hoping she'll understand what I'm really begging for.

The classroom door opens, and Bastien walks in.

I'm on my feet before Felline registers he's there.

"Your Highness!" He snaps into a salute.

"You don't have to do that," I say ungraciously. And then, for Felline's sake, I make a tremendous effort to clear the scowl from my face. "Are you on duty?"

"Shift just ended," he says to me, which explains why he's still wearing his guard uniform, but he's distracted by Felline, who pushed in our chairs and slipped her paw into his, smiling in greeting.

She is his girlfriend, after all.

His. Not mine.

I don't know when it started, this possessiveness I feel whenever I'm around my best friend. My only friend, for a long time. I want more than that. I realized it when Bastien came sniffing around last year, but I said nothing, because I wasn't sure what she would do if I told her the truth, and I watched her fall for someone other than me. Her dream of serving on the Council was my one big chance. Once she was there, working with me every day, I could win her out from under his nose. Or so I told myself. Now my fantasy is crumbling out from under me.

Her eyes are so big. Full, I imagine, of all the things she can't say.

"I'm sorry, Lion-O," she says quietly. "Thank you for stopping by."

I hear my dismissal, and I take it, flipping up my hood to ward off the chill outside. I miss summer. The only good thing about winter is my birthday. "Are you staying for the party?" I ask.

"Of course," she says, so quickly that I'm relieved. "Mother wouldn't miss it for the world."

Bastien grins at me, all friendly. Only the fact that I'm sure she hasn't told him yet enables me to smile back, and I leave.

* * *

_**A/N**: ThunderCats 2011 Omake Gekijō Presents: "Promise Me, part one."_

_Is there such a thing as an Original Character Alternate Universe?_

_The Night Whisperer was the only reviewer who used the word "cockamamie" after I announced it to be the word of the day and dared someone to say it. I was only kidding - it wasn't a real challenge, but when Night did it, I was so pleased that I offered to write a giftfic as a prize._

_Night presented this plot bunny: [Could you do a Felli-O pairing where Lion-O and Felline met as cubs? I've always been a fan of best friends turned lovers because it just seems so genuine and real. It would be nice to see how their relationship would have blossomed if they had known each other from the start.] This is what happened._

_I had the hardest time trying to decide where in the convoluted mess that is the Great Giftfic Exchange this story belongs. I've settled on OCAU, whether that's a Thing or not. "Promise Me" is a sequel to WAR-Operative's giftfic (written for me), "Dissonance/Snowfall." Confused yet? Me, too. Bluntly put, this story is a giftfic based upon a giftfic._

_Reviewer thanks! **Momochan77**, **KelseyAlicia**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Jaegermeister97**, and **Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967**. I love you all so much. Thank you!_

_Part two, The Conclusion, is coming real soon. Hope to see you then!_

_Love, Anne_


	4. Promise Me, part two

**ThunderCats in its entirety © Warner Bros.**

**Dissonance/Snowfall ****© WAR-Operative**

* * *

**Summary: **Lion-O struggles to find a way to convince Felline not to leave Thundera, part two. Sequel to WAR-Operative's "Dissonance/Snowfall."

* * *

Felline thinks she's got me licked, but she obviously doesn't appreciate how stubborn I can be.

I spend the next few days avoiding my father after formally requesting he postpone the invitation to Geof. He doesn't ask too many questions, for which I am grateful, until he ends the interview by saying he hopes my interest in the candidates shows that I finally have an eye on my future. I'm still not sure if he meant that one day, the Council would answer to me and I therefore should have a paw in who was on it, or if he meant that Felline and I –

Interrupting my own thoughts, I slam a thick leather folder on top of an already tottering pile. I prop my elbows on my desk and hold my head in my paws, clenching my fists in my mane as if I can pull the solution to my problem out by the roots. There has to be _something_ here. Darkly, I eye the pile of folders, the stacks of supplications for issues to be brought before the king during assembly. I can't believe how much work there is to do. Jaga was so bland when I showed up. I'm sure he's having a laugh at my expense right now.

_Nyaa_, Snarf comments, his green eyes huge as they swivel from me to the stack and back.

"I can't give up, Snarf," I tell him, scratching him under his furry little chin. "She plays dirty. That means I have to, too."

_Snyar snyar_! he says in agreement.

I grin, ruffling his tasseled ears. My staunchest pro-Felline support. Come to think of it, he wasn't too wild about Pumyra. I should have listened to him.

With a sigh, I drag yet another folder to the center of my desk and open it, scanning the contents. I need a new angle. If I can find something among the endless theft reports and lizard raids, I can take it to Felline and show her that she'll waste her talent in Foret. That she's meant for more than a village schoolmistress.

Then I find it. An appeal for permission to build an earthwork. Nothing too ostentatious on the first perusal, but as I read, the real problem becomes clear, and it's a mess. It's perfect.

"_There_ you are," says my brother's deep voice from the doorway, making Snarf, who had begun to doze, jump so that he topples the stack of folders. He streaks away, mewing in terror, as an avalanche of papers cascades across the floor. This is so typical of my neurotic friend that neither of us blink.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Tygra says.

I scoop up the folder, along with my cloak. "Well, whatever it is you want, it's going to have to wait."

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Tygra asks, genuinely surprised. He fills the doorway so that I can't get past him and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Everybody's waiting for you in the reception hall."

I experience a sinking in the region of my stomach. This isn't Tygra being his usual antagonistic self – his expression is exasperated, but anxious. "Everybody, who?" I ask cautiously.

"I don't believe you," Tygra groans, putting his paws on his hips. "Can't you take your position more seriously? I knew you've been skipping meetings, but I didn't think you'd let something like this get by you."

"Something like what?" I snarl, but Tygra starts brushing at my clothes, straightening my collar, and then smoothing my mane as if trying to make it lie flat like his. I duck out of the line of fire, both of my paws jumping to my head to repair the damage. "Hey! What's the matter with you?"

"That's going to have to do," he says in a defeated sort of way, eyeing me critically. He locks an arm around my shoulders and propels me into the corridor, still fussing with my tunic. "Try not to gape like such a monkey. They brought two this time, and one of them looks like she means business."

With the abrupt, unpleasant clarity I associate with breaking through thin ice to the dangerous black depths below, I realize what's going on. Tygra no longer has to drag me. In spite of the fact that I'd rather be anywhere – literally anywhere – than the reception hall, my brother and I stride toward it and enter side by side. Tygra beams at our guests with dazzling tiger charm the instant his foot touches the tile, so I hitch a smile onto my face that's probably as convincing as the grimace Father's beard doesn't quite disguise. My perpetual tardiness has long been a sore spot with him.

They've arrived, the dignitaries of the great cat clans, to pay their respects to the crown and me on my eighteenth birthday, which is fast approaching. My name is announced, and the room as a whole bows in my direction. Entire families have come on this rare trip to visit our capital city, some cubs so young they seem permanently attached to their mothers' skirts. And with this sizeable crowd are two daughters of the southern lion clans, just my age.

I take a steadying breath. Here we go. I knew this was coming. Once, I overheard a simpering dignitary talking to my father about me. In Thundera, arranged marriages are a thing of the past, but, as that old lion smugly pointed out, you never know what might happen when young people get together. And these girls are beautiful. One has her hair braided down her back in a shining golden rope, and her fur is pale, her facial markings barely visible. The taller one pinned her hair to the side of her head so that it falls in crimson waves over her shoulder, exposing the delicate point of her small ear and the glint of diamonds at her throat. Tygra wasn't exaggerating. This one came for one reason, and one reason only. I can feel her determination like a slap from all the way across the room. She fixes her eyes on me and smiles as if she likes what she sees.

Unfortunately for her, I fell for the pretty face trap once before.

Apparently, becoming queen is much easier than I thought. Almost got myself in a lot of trouble over a few kisses stolen behind the clerisy compound. I was thirteen. She was old enough to know better than me. I wouldn't be surprised if I still have the stripes across my backside from the "talk" my father had with me.

I rub my mouth with my fingers to hide what's sure to be a monkeyish grin. I should tell Felline that story. It was long enough ago that she'd find it funny. I don't even care that I'd be opening myself up to endless teasing, as long as it means that she's there to do it.

A servant appears at my elbow to take my cloak and the folder, and I relinquish them with regret. It's irrational, but I can't help thinking that if I let the folder out of my sight, Felline will disappear, too.

That's all I have time to think before the lionesses glide forward and gracefully curtsey. They aren't alone. Others come with them, brothers, sisters, cousins, more cats my age than I'm accustomed to dealing with at once. They're easy with each other, talking and laughing as they surround me, striving not to stare but staring all the same. Just like always, I am the outsider here, but I can't get around the fact that these cats are here for me.

For the rest of the day, I am their property.

..::~*~::..

"Does it ever snow?" Claudia asks.

A tour of Cat's Lair eats up the time nicely. I glance at her as we climb to the observatory. She pulls a shawl over her golden hair and ducks into Leon's chest, a lion who is built along the lines of my father. He's older; his dark beard has filled in enough that only his chin is as clean as mine. He puts a thick arm around Claudia, his brown eyes sliding to my face and then away. He's got nothing to worry about. It's something of a relief to find that she, at least, is already spoken for.

"We're too low. Most winters there's only rain," I answer, "but the mountains behind us do see a little."

I push open the observatory's doors. My audience flows around me to collect along the handrails like leaves caught in an eddy, their excited voices rising to the crystalline roof, bounding around the walls that are all glass. Across from us, the Rufus River plunges down the cliff in a gauzy sheet, similar to the white lace of the ladies' gowns. It runs deep and fast on its way through the channels cut into the base of the palace, impervious to ice.

"I love snow," Téa announces as if anyone asked her. She latched onto my arm early on – the right one, so I don't destroy her carefully crafted hair. It glints like crimson fire in the setting sun.

"So do I," I say without thinking, because it isn't true. Felline loves it. I tolerate it on those few occasions it reaches us here in the city, because there's nothing she likes better than to walk in it, lifting her face so that it catches in her eyelashes, on her nose and lips.

"Maybe we'll get lucky, then," Téa says, straightening my arm so that she can shift her grip to my paw and press her whole body against my side.

Several toms snigger. I gape down at her, momentarily at a loss for a reply. Then I clear my throat and manage to say without squeaking, "I doubt it."

More laughter. Claudia, who watched the whole thing through narrowed eyes, bounces up to her pouting friend and pulls her away, waving excitedly at the waterfall. While she distracts Téa, Leon claps a paw on my shoulder, grinning.

"Don't worry about her," he says. "She'll be back on the attack before you know it."

"Great," I say unenthusiastically, but I can't help returning his grin. Hanging around with other lions isn't so bad after all. Leon and Claudia seem to understand quite a bit.

Kind of like Felline does. As I watch the lionesses argue in low whispers, Leon a silent, protective rock at my side, I wonder if, in that one moment, I experienced what it's like to have friends.

..::~*~::..

Three moons shine in the sky. The street is otherwise dark.

I am freezing.

I grub around in the gravel beneath the bushes and come up with a nice pawful of pebbles. I take careful aim, then lob one at a second-story window. It bounces off the glass with a satisfying _clink_, loud enough to be heard in the bedroom beyond, but too quiet for anyone else in the house to notice.

Felline must have been awake. She slides open the sash before I can loose the second stone.

"Lion-O!" Is it just me, or does she sound really pleased to see me? "What are you doing here so late?"

"I couldn't get away any earlier," I call in a stage whisper. The last thing I need is Commander Snow discovering me sneaking into his daughter's room – then I remember he's been living in the barracks and my courage returns. "Can I come up?"

She hesitates, and it occurs to me that I could very well have been Bastien, coming to wish his girlfriend good night. Suddenly, it's a stranger standing at her window, her eyes hidden by shadow. Was she expecting him tonight? Does she let him in when the rest of the family goes to bed? Will she refuse me because I'm not him?

Then she smiles and beckons, and we're back to being best friends. In a flash, I scale the wall and heft myself awkwardly through the window.

"This was a lot easier when I was a cub," I grunt. I end up on the floor, pulling my legs in after me.

She laughs quietly as she tosses her quilt over my head. Felline loves the cold and sometimes leaves the window open all night, even in winter. She's insane.

Insane, and smart, and funny, and I remember that it snowed last year, and I can still see the fat flake that touched her lower lip and melted, and I should have told her then, so I could have learned what that snowflake tasted like –

And I can feel my face heating up so I take my time emerging from the quilt. Which smells so much like her that it's not helping.

"To what do I owe thanks for the honor of your company, Your Highness?" she asks. I hear springs creak when she sits on her bed.

I know she's joking, but I'm glad she's taken that tone with me. I pop out of the quilt. "Interesting that you should ask. I'm here for your opinion."

Ignoring the chair in front of her vanity, I sit next to her on her bed, and then pull the folder out of my cloak with a flourish.

She makes a face and reluctantly takes it. "What is this?"

"Read it," I say. Daringly, I flop back on the mattress, giving her no choice but to lean against me.

Stink Eye. The look she gives me could scare that old fairy tale mummy, but she tucks her feet into her nightgown, opens the folder, and begins to read. Slowly, her eyebrows draw down while her eyes dart from side to side. When she reaches the end, she gives a little snarl of disgust. "What are these people thinking?"

"What would you do?" I ask quietly, as if I'm talking to a sleeping cat that I don't want to wake. I watch her, entranced by the play of emotions across her small face.

"Well, for starters, I'd order this governor to stop being such a jerk and build the earthwork," she says, throwing her paw in the air, her eyes glued to the petition. "If he doesn't want to pay for the labor, he can enlist the help of the farmers. They will do the work to save their fields from flooding. He can petition the crown for the supplies, too. Earthworks fall under the provision for emergency aid, considering the size of the river and its floodplain, and the proposed location and span of the earthwork. But to refuse laborers access to his lands because he fears supposed thievery, and to actually set his armed guard on the workers the farmers themselves paid for – despicable! There's something more than a dispute over land rights going on here."

"Exactly," I say, satisfied. I knew she'd see it so clearly, just as I had.

She drops her paw. It lands on my stomach, because I haven't left enough room for it to go anywhere else. The texture of my tunic seems to shock her back to reality. Her fingers curl, her claws catching on a fold and making me shiver. She stares at me, breathing faster than normal through parted lips.

I tap the folder. "Want to know what Geof suggested? He said we should send a contingent of our own soldiers to investigate the alleged thefts. He said nothing about the earthwork."

"_Geof_?" She makes a sound between a snort and a laugh. "That idiot. Why did you show this to him?"

"Because Father's putting him on the Council instead of you."

At last, I've gotten through to her. She looks downright horrified.

I push myself up on my elbow, holding her paw in place against my stomach. Her eyes are huge and locked on mine.

I can feel her breath on my face. It makes me reckless. "It's not just Geof," I say petulantly. "The clans have come for my birthday and there's this girl who wants to be queen. She won't stay out of my face. Don't go, Felline. Don't leave me with them."

I put everything I'm feeling into the plea. I have her. I know it. I can see her resolve crumbling. I can see her questioning her decisions. Her face softens and her shoulders slump.

"What is it you think I'm going to do if I stay?"

The ice in her voice cracks like a river freezing over.

It's all going wrong. She leans away from me, tugging her paw back, and she's not smiling at all. The folder spills onto the floor, but she doesn't pick it up and stands there, shaking. "You're going to be the next king. And guess what? Every king needs a queen."

"I'm sorry," I say quickly, scrambling off the bed. "I shouldn't have talked about her."

"Why not? I'm not naïve," she snaps. "Neither are you, for all that you act like a cub. We'll be going in a week and Bastien offered to come with us. He's preparing his resignation."

It's as if she kicked me in the gut. "He's leaving the guard to help Perrie move to Foret?"

"Don't be stupid. He's leaving for me." She looks away. "He asked me to marry him."

Cold rage blows through my heart like a blizzard. Bastien is smarter than he looks, but he doesn't deserve her. He doesn't realize that she's not meant for him, that I have a place in her heart, too. It doesn't matter that I don't know what her answer was. It's possible she hasn't given him one. Or so I tell myself.

Drowning, I reach for her. I need to confirm that she's still here. I need to hold her. The way I once had when we were cubs, waiting out a snowstorm.

She darts backward, out of my reach. "What do you want, Lion-O?" she cries, forgetting the late hour, her sleeping family.

Her voice pierces me in a dozen places. I know exactly what I want, yet I hesitate to tell her. I'm terrified of what she'll do, and I immediately hate myself for a coward.

Her eyes go dark. "Let me know when you figure it out," she says thickly. She wrenches her door open and flees through it, abandoning me in her overheated room.

* * *

_**A/N**: ThunderCats 2011 Omake Gekijō Presents: "Promise Me, part two."_

_Well, Night, it looks like your giftfic has become a Teeny Weeny Trilogy (tm). :3_

_I'm so sorry I took so long to update this, everyone! Part of the trouble was figuring out that there was more to the story than a one-shot could handle, and then admitting two-shot wasn't going to cover it, either. Also, I meant this to be pure fluff. So much for that. Never fear, Dear Readers - I am a sappy romantic at heart. X3_

_Reviewer thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Heart of the Demons**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Momochan77**, and_ _**Mooncloudpanther**. Thank you for being so marvelous, you guys!_

_Until next time,_

_Anne_


	5. Promise Me, part three

**ThunderCats in its entirety © Warner Bros.**

**Dissonance/Snowfall ****© WAR-Operative**

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**Summary: **Lion-O struggles to find a way to convince Felline not to leave Thundera, conclusion. Sequel to WAR-Operative's "Dissonance/Snowfall."

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The entire city turns up for my birthday party.

I stand at the foot of Cat's Lair with my father at moonrise, though the clouds hide even the gas giant from us. We wear gold and blue, glittering in our finery. Tygra, for once, stands far enough back that the pair of them don't dwarf me. I suspect he's flirting with a masked, silent cleric. How he can tell when one of those pale, cloaked figures is a woman has always mystified me. My father passes me a glass of rosy wine, engulfs my shoulder with a battle-scarred paw, and raises his own glass to the gaily bundled-up crowd that fills the frozen courtyard below us. The chattering dies down at once.

His speech, like so many others he's given, is short and to the point. He speaks of love and pride and me being a true son of Thundera, which our people lap up as if it's candyfruit juice. I want to be embarrassed, but a small part of me can't help but be pleased. Father doesn't praise me often. Then the music starts and the party swings into motion beneath the dark, leaden sky.

The braziers are burning full strength, their heat billowing into the night. Tygra soon makes his excuses and detaches himself to chase after the cleric, probably hoping he can finally win a game of trying to make her talk. Father and I eat dinner on the balcony, without tables or chairs so that visiting dignitaries and our own court can pay their respects and wish me many happy returns. I play along, the dutiful prince, until Perrie appears with her daughters.

Everyone else in the room vanishes.

All three women curtsey. Despite current Thunderan fashion, Felline left her hair loose. It tumbles down her back and around her face in curls and kinks of pure starlight. Perrie hugs me, but then my father claims her attention. They speak like old friends, which, in truth, they are. I guess bringing a drugged, traumatized girl home piggyback tends to bring the parents together, too.

"Happy birthday, Your Highness," Lepra and Felline say together.

"Thank you," I say automatically, stung by the fact that Felline didn't use my name. Bypassing Lepra, whose coral-pink lips curve knowingly, I lean toward her sister and say as quietly as I can, "I need to talk to you."

"There isn't anything to talk about," Felline says, her ears easing back.

"Yes, there is." A sidelong glance shows Lepra joining my father and Perrie, leaving us relatively forgotten. I catch Felline's wrist, turning my back as if I can hide her from our families. "Look, I know I messed up. Again. And I'm sorry –"

She fights my hold, but we're in the middle of a brightly-lit room, surroundded by a sizeable crowd, and her resistance is less than vehement. There are more than one pair of curious eyes on us as it is.

Frustrated, I bend closer and hiss, "I'm _sorry_, all right? But I know what I want now."

"Do you? That's nice," she says, angry like me.

I growl at her. "You're not even going to listen?"

"No, I'm not," she says belligerently. She tosses her head. "Apology accepted. That's all you're getting from me. Now let go."

I do before she decides to make a scene, but there's a hard knot in my chest that's making it hard to breathe. She doesn't look at me as she says, "Enjoy your party."

..::~*~::..

After greeting every guest at least once, I retreat, slipping between a pair of clerics until my back finds the wall. I can hear the upper orchestra tuning up, quite apart from the noise and frolic of the festivities below us, and I know what's coming. Téa searches for me, steel in her eye. In spite of all of my disinterested and unwilling conversation this past week, she hasn't given up. On the other paw, Felline is doing her best to stay as far away from me as possible.

I curse the tenacity of women as a whole. I'm concentrating so ferociously on staying invisible that Tygra sneaks up on me and bumps my shoulder hard enough to spill what's left of my wine.

"What was that for?" I ask angrily, shaking droplets off my paw. At least it hadn't soiled my tunic.

He grins with maddening superiority. "You're skulking over here like a jackal. Why?"

"I'm supposed to ask Téa to open the dancing."

My brother rolls his eyes. "Since when do you ever do what you're supposed to do?"

"Since I don't know how to do what I want to do," I admit, the words burning in my mouth. I hate showing weakness in front of Tygra, who doesn't seem to have any himself.

He usurps my glass and takes the last meager swallow, considering me.

"Are you the one who introduced Leon to Snow?" he asks abruptly.

"Yes," I say, only half listening. I will be glad to send most of these guests home. I'm keeping one eye on a red head, and the other on a white. They're almost dancing as they wander through the room, unaware of each other's existence. My gaze lingers on Felline.

"That's the first time you've ever stepped up on one of these occasions," Tygra says. "Father's pleased. Good for you."

I frown up at him. "I'm not a cub. I pay attention. I know what my obligations are."

Tygra snorts on a skeptical laugh, but I don't say what I'm really thinking. That if Felline can do it, so can I.

It will never end. Now that Leon has succeeded, and Claudia too, in impressing me enough to earn a place at court, more will come. It's inevitable. Yet, there is only one cat I want at my side, and she wants nothing to do with me.

"My baby brother, growing up so fast," Tygra says, bringing me out of my dark thoughts. He heaves an exaggerated sigh that rubs my fur completely wrong. I can see my future spreading out before me, it scares me to death, and he has to be so flippant about it because he's not the one going to be king. "Have you thought of anyone else?"

"Well, _you_," I say impatiently. "Who else is supposed to keep me in line?"

I have the satisfaction of seeing, for the first time in our lives, Tygra struck dumb.

"I'll take that as a yes," I wearily say, slouching against the wall. I can't summon the energy to gloat about gaining the upper paw, because it's over. I stayed still too long. Téa sees me and makes a beeline straight for us.

She's just about reached us when Tygra comes back to life.

"Go on," he says. "Figure it out. I'll distract her."

"What?" I stare at him, searching for the familiar mocking grin, but it's not there. He looks exasperated again, and maybe a bit affectionate. He's never looked at me like that. Especially not on this day, the anniversary of our mother's death, a death that he blames me for. Now I'm the one speechless.

He thumps his knuckles into my head. "It's your birthday, Lion-O. Don't waste my help. You might not get it again."

With that, he's gone, intercepting a flustered, wide-eyed Téa with a blast of his tiger charm.

It takes me a second to realize that what I'm feeling is gratitude. "Thanks . . . brother," I say, although I know he can't hear me.

While Téa reluctantly accepts Tygra's flamboyant request to dance, I dive into the crowd, bent double as I run. I snag Felline by the paw on the way by and haul her to the stairwell right as the music starts. No one hears her cry of surprise. Then we are through the curtain and stumbling down the spiraling steps together.

"Lion-O!" she gasps in the dark, bumping into me several times. "What on Third Earth do you think you're doing?"

Grimly, I tow her down several more turns until we burst out the bottom into the shadow of the balcony. My breath plumes into the cold winter night when I turn to face her. She's not quick enough to wipe the laughter off her face.

"I want to talk to you," I say hurriedly, "and I can't do it up there. Please, Felline."

She puts her face in her paws. "This is wrong," she says, her voice muffled.

"Why?" I demand, flaring up. "Because of Bastien?"

Not answering, she takes a few steps away from me, her gown swirling around her feet. The night is utterly still here in this part of the royal gardens, separated by the wall and another flight of stairs from the festivities in the courtyard. Felline throws her head back as if to try to catch a glimpse of the party going on above us, but suddenly her eyes widen.

"Snow!" she says in delight.

It's not her father, but sloppy, white flakes dropping from the black sky. She glides onto the lawns, her paws outstretched. Alone, much slower than the tempo of the music drifting down to us, she turns on the spot, her smile radiant. Then, equally slowly, she lowers her arms and stands still. The half-frozen snowflakes dart between us on the breathless air, a veil, a barrier.

"Will you dance with me, Lion-O?" she asks. A bit wistfully.

I don't hesitate. I step into the snowfall.

"I'm not going to marry Bastien," she says before I touch her. "I broke up with him yesterday."

"What? I thought you said there wasn't anything to talk about," I say, raising my eyebrows at her. "That's pretty big news."

"It's none of your business." She laughs quietly, and then sobers. I wonder what she's thinking behind those big, glacier-blue eyes. "It's your turn now. Promise me you aren't going to mess up again."

"I promise," I say, taking her paw in my left and settling my right in the curve of her waist. Instead of beginning the dance, however, I bend down and kiss her.

I don't know what to expect – her to pull away, maybe, or slap me, or yell at me – but she's not. She's kissing me back. She goes up on her toes and weaves her arms around the back of my neck, holding me to her. The world shrinks. All that matters is that she's in my arms, and that her lips are hot on mine. I thread my fingers through her hair, which is as thick and soft as I'd always imagined it would be. I hope she never pins it up after this.

A few seconds or eternities later, one of us comes up for air. I'm not sure which. Her eyes stay closed while the indifferent snow catches in her lashes and melts on my cheeks. It's cold, but I no longer mind.

"I know what I want," I say again, so close that our noses are touching. "I want that to be your last first kiss."

As I wait for my meaning to sink in, I think I'm clever, and am proud of myself. Her dazed eyes open partway. She stares at me in a kind of wonder, and then she does slap me.

"Hey!" I yelp, and we spring apart. She didn't hit me very hard, so even though it stings, I grin at her like a monkey.

"Are you _nuts_?" she explodes.

No. I'm in love. "I'm dead serious."

"But you're the – and I'm – oh, _whiskers_!" she swears, and I want to laugh so badly I can feel my eyes watering. She's so _cute_. "We've been friends forever, but this is different. This is huge. What you're saying – it's not like we're cubs anymore! I'm not a lion. Your father is never going to allow this."

"Are you kidding?" I say heartily, injecting false bravado into my voice. "Your resignation really disappointed him. He's crazy about you."

All the same, I chance a glance up at the balcony and nearly suffer a heart attack when I discover that my father is, in fact, standing at the railing and watching us, Jaga at his side. The light from the party burns in Father's mane, shadows Jaga's aquiline face. I should have known my absence wouldn't go unnoticed; there is no way either one of them would let me out of their sight for long. However, Father merely smiles into his beard and then turns away, giving his permission. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief, trying to project the impression that I expected no less. Felline gapes at the spot where he disappears as if she can't believe her eyes.

I entwine my fingers with hers, needing her close, craving her warmth, her faintly sweet scent. For a whole year, Bastien denied me this. No, that isn't right. My own cowardice did. I'd given her my word, and I'd broken it. Me. I'd so nearly lost her because of my childishness. I want to tell her all this. If she stays, maybe I will. Someday.

Her expression changes. I wonder if she can feel the heat of everything going on inside of me while we gaze at each other. As if in a dream, she kisses me again and it's slower, more passionate than anything I've experienced, and I know it's because of her. My best friend.

"Don't leave me," I whisper against her mouth.

Strange, how we've come to this. All those years ago, it had been Felline begging me to stay, curled against my side like a helpless kitten. Now here I am, holding on to this tiny cat for dear life.

Her fingers tangle in my wet mane. "I'm not going anywhere," she says fiercely. "I promise."

Happiness crashes through me. I don't care who might be looking over the balcony. Laughing, I wrap my arms around her, scoop her up, and waltz with her around the garden, slipping a little in the slushy snow, while she kicks her feet and yells at me to put her down.

Maybe I will. Someday.

* * *

_**A/N**: ThunderCats 2011 Omake Gekijō Presents: "Promise Me, conclusion."_

_Reviewer thanks! **Heart of the Demons**, **KelseyAlicia**_, _**The Night Whisperer**, and **Momochan77**__. You are the best. You know that, right?_

_All my love,_

_Anne_


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